The Merits of Being a Bookworm
by Googleeyes
Summary: When Angela Russell received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she thought someone was playing a prank on her. Harry Potter was just a character in a book and there was no such thing as magic, right? Or could it possibly be real?


_What would happen if a fan of the Harry Potter books received a Hogwarts letter? That was the idea behind this oneshot, if it wasn't clear from the summary. Just a warning, there are a lot of original characters and only one canon character toward the end. Also, I am not entirely certain whether or not it is possible for Muggles to get onto Platform 9 3/4, so I just gave it a guess. _

_I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

10 August 2009  
_

"It's just like in the books," Angela Russell breathed in wonder as they stepped into Diagon Alley, and immediately took off running.

"Angie, come back here!" her mother shouted, trying to run after the small dark-haired girl but finding herself blocked by crowds of people.

Angie ignored her mother's shouts and the calls of the Muggleborn Student Liaison to get back right away. She ducked through groups of robed people and passed shops with names that she couldn't believe she was actually seeing. Finally coming to a stop in front of the shop marked Flourish and Blotts, she grinned so widely it nearly hurt her face and disappeared into the bookstore.

There were so many books about so many different things that she thought she could probably lose herself in there forever, but Angie forced herself to tear her attention away from them all and go to the section that was labeled "History Books". She figured it would probably be her best bet to finding out how much of what she'd read had been true.

Half an hour later, her parents and the liaison, Mr Brinks, found her sitting on the floor buried nose-deep in a book called _Significant Achievements in the Modern Wizarding World_ with several other similar books scattered around her. Her mother sighed and began picking up the books she had left lying about and attempting to re-shelve them in their proper places.

"If you can get her up from the floor, we'll be needing to buy her schoolbooks," Mr Brinks said impatiently. By this point, Angie was under the impression that he was not a very patient man by nature, as he kept getting frustrated with her.

"Do you think they use the Dewey Decimal System here, or are the books sorted alphabetically?" Angie's mother wondered aloud.

"Alphabetically," Mr Brinks said briskly. "But you can leave them where they are, I'm sure the shop assistants will be round to clean them up. Remember, we do have to get everything done sometime today."

"Mum, can I please, please get some of these books?" Angie begged, standing up and setting down the book she had just been reading onto the pile of other discarded books. "They've got _Harry Potter _in them. The real Harry Potter and what he really did in real life!"

"Yes, yes, we're all aware he's quite real," Mr Brinks said with a long-suffering sigh. "Though why that Rowling woman saw fit to write a series of children's books about him, and Muggle children's books no less, I shall never know. I can't deny it has done wonders in increasing a certain amount of understanding, but then things like _this _happen."

"You can buy one extra book," Angie's father said after some consideration. "So long as it isn't too expensive and you're sure you'll really read it."

"Oh, I will," Angie promised, eagerly scanning the shelves. "I really will."

After several minutes of searching, she emerged with _Harry Potter and the Truth About the Second Rise of Voldemort_ by Padma Patil.

"That's a good choice, actually," Mr Brinks said. "Professor Patil will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Really?" Angie squealed in fascinated excitement.

"Yes. Now, please come along and I'll help you find the books on your list…"

As they continued shopping, Angie alternated between feeling as if she was in a dream and feeling as if what was happening was finally sinking in. Buying her schoolbooks was actually rather boring, especially because she really wanted to start reading the book about Harry Potter and all the others seemed so boring in comparison, but shopping for potions ingredients was exciting and being measured for school robes was certainly a new kind of experience. The material was much longer and heavier than she was used to wearing, and she almost felt like the magical tape measure was invading her privacy just a bit. When it was time to buy her wand was when Angie really began wondering if this was just a very long and detailed dream.

When she first got her letter, she had thought that someone was playing a prank on her. Even when Mr Brinks came to her house and started explaining things, she couldn't really believe it was happening. She had tried to tell herself that this made sense of things like when she had set the sofa on fire despite not having any matches and those times that she would discover things from high shelves lying on the floor just in reach for her to pick up, but it still didn't seem that this could possibly be _real_. Harry Potter was just a character in a book and there was no such thing as magic, right?

Sitting on the spindly-legged chair in Ollivander's, Angie felt as if there was a fight going on inside her. So far, it seemed like what she was experiencing was really happening. She hadn't woken up yet. But what if something went wrong? What if none of the wands she tried worked and everyone decided that it had all been a dreadful mistake, that she wasn't really a witch after all and she should just go home and forget all this? What if she suddenly woke up?

"Try this one, dear. Aspen, 12 ½ inches, exceptionally swishy, unicorn tail hair core."

Angie waved the wand experimentally and a bunch of silvery sparks burst out the end. It felt warm and comfortable in her hand, like it was meant to be there, and whatever fight had been going on in her head suddenly ceased. This was just so _right_. She felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted, and smiled widely.

As her parents and Mr Brinks paid for the wand, Angie started to fidget impatiently and wished she could get the Harry Potter history book out of the bag of books so she would have something to do. Once they stepped outside, something suddenly occurred to her.

"Mum, Dad, can I have a pet? It says on the list that we can bring an owl or a cat or a toad. Can we go to the pet store?"

"The Magical Menagerie?" Mr Brinks asked, and she nodded. "I suppose you have enough money left over."

As her parents puzzled over their converted money with Mr Brinks to help, Angie stared wide-eyed at the colourful balls of fur in cages and tortoises with jewels on their shells and a dozen other things she had never imagined to exist. And, of course, there were the owls. They were a little frightening in person, Angie decided, with their long talons and beady hunter eyes. The box of mewing kittens looked much more appealing.

In the end, she walked out with a tiny bug-eyed black kitten cuddled lovingly in her arms.

"I think I'm going to name him Dobby," she announced. "Because he has such big ears and eyes in such a small body, like a house elf."

Mr Brinks gave her an odd look, but Angie ignored it. She had been re-reading all her Harry Potter books recently and was currently on the second one, just after the incident with the falling cake, so Dobby the elf was fresh in her mind. She tried to forget about what happened to him in the seventh book as she gently stroked the soft fur of Dobby the kitten.

"Do we have a lot of money left?" Angie's father asked, studying the small pile of coins in his hands after they finished paying for the cat and some toys and food for it.

Mr Brinks did some quick calculations. "Not enough to be worth changing it back now that we're done shopping. But just enough for a little treat, I think."

"Can we get ice cream?" Angie asked, hungrily eyeing the ice cream parlour across the street.

"Certainly we can get ice cream," her mother said with a smile.

As Angie licked contentedly at the mounds of chocolate ice cream on top of her cone, she was not sure how she was going to survive the three weeks until the 1st of September. How was she going to _sleep _at night, having something like Hogwarts to look forward to?

* * *

_1 September 2009_

Angie felt very lost and alone trying to navigate Platform 9 ¾. She had said goodbye to her parents before disappearing through the barrier, since they couldn't come through with her, and was now feeling rather left out as students all around her were sharing their farewells here and having people to help them with their luggage. The burst of excitement she'd felt after coming through the barrier and really seeing the gleaming scarlet Hogwarts Express had started to die away as she was nearly trampled, bumped into people everywhere she turned, and discovered how heavy her trunk really was, especially with Dobby in his carrier balanced on top.

"Need some help?" a kind voice asked.

Angie looked up to see an older girl with a shiny badge on the school robes she was already wearing. Squinting closer, she could see that the badge marked the girl as a prefect, and that she was in Hufflepuff.

"Yes, please," Angie said, sighing in relief as she dropped the edge of her trunk and jumping out of the way just in time to stop her toes from being crushed beneath its weight. "It's just so _heavy_ and I keep worrying that my cat will slide off the top."

"I understand completely," the prefect said, grabbing the other end of Angie's trunk and helping her to lift and carry it toward the train. "It's a lot easier if you have someone to enchant it for you, but…"

"My parents are Muggles," Angie explained.

The prefect nodded. "I thought so, since they weren't here with you. Mine are, too. My name's Heather, Heather Dartley."

"I'm Angie Russell," Angie replied as together they hefted the trunk into an empty compartment.

"It was good to meet you, Angie," Heather said, smiling brightly at the younger girl. "I'd sit with you, but I have to be up in the prefect's carriage. Besides, the train is the best place to make your first friends."

"I've heard," Angie said with a private sort of smile as Heather bounced out of the compartment, leaving her alone with her trunk and Dobby, who was asleep. Figuring that she might as well find something to do until the train left, Angie dug around in her knapsack for the Harry Potter history book she was halfway through.

For a little while, she remained the only one in her compartment. However, she was joined by another scared-looking first year girl just before the train started and by a third first-year shortly after it had left the platform.

"I'm Chloe Fleming," the first newcomer introduced herself, giving Angie a brief smile before turning to stare out the window and gnawing at her thumbnail.

The other girl seemed more confident than both Angie and Chloe put together. She immediately introduced herself as Tara MacDonald and launched into a lengthy diatribe against her overbearing parents, her annoying little brother, the fact that she couldn't bring her pet crup with her, and the awful itchy jumper her mother had made her wear so that she would look nice for her picture in front of the train.

"…But Dad couldn't get the camera to work at first, so I was almost late and I had to jump up the stairs and nearly fell over when the train started moving. I'm so glad I'm finally going to Hogwarts."

When she finally paused for breath, and to take off the itchy jumper, Angie and Chloe both blinked in mild surprise.

"So I take it your parents are magical, then?" Angie asked in the brief silence.

"Of course. Aren't yours?"

Chloe and Angie both shook their heads in the negative, and then looked at each other curiously.

"Have you ever read the Harry Potter books?" Angie asked almost immediately.

"My mum read me the first when I was little, but I don't really remember much," Chloe shrugged. "I saw a couple of the movies."

"You know about Harry Potter?" Tara asked. "How?"

"Well, there are a series of books…" Angie started to explain.

"Did you know that his godson is in our year?" Tara blurted out. Angie's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Really! He was at the platform and everything. Did you see him?"

"No… I can't believe Harry Potter was really here and I missed it!" Angie frowned.

"Well, you never know. You might see him again at winter hols or summer, picking up his godson. Anyway, I think I should probably tell you two all about the wizarding world so you aren't too confused. There's a lot to tell, really…"

Angie was glad that she wound up in a different boat than Tara, because it gave her a chance for a bit of quiet and silent amazement as she watched Hogwarts castle approach in the distance. It wasn't quite the same as in the movies, but close enough to be recognizable.

It was all quite fascinating to meet people like Hagrid, who led them in the boats, and Professor Slughorn, who greeted them in the entry hall and told them about the Houses. He was a lot older than Angie would have thought. She'd imagined him to be old, but not _quite _so old. Would he look this old in the sixth film coming out in the summer?

She soon realized that she had spent so much time speculating about Slughorn's age that she had missed most of his speech and the fact that they were being led into the Great Hall to be Sorted. It was extremely difficult to keep walking in a straight line because all she wanted to do was look around and see everything at once.

"It looks just like the sky outside," she murmured to herself, staring up at the ceiling until the boy behind her prodded her to keep moving.

Waiting in line as Professor Slughorn read off students' names, Angie fidgeted and tried to be less nervous. It wouldn't do to go passing out or anything in front of the entire student body. Besides, there was so much to look at in front of her that she should have no problem keeping herself occupied, right?

It seemed like everyone was staring at her at once, and it wasn't even her turn yet. They were still on the D names. Why did Russell have to be so far down in the alphabet? Surely it would be better to get this all over and done with right away. She tried to busy herself examining the different House tables one at a time. The banners were all very big, hanging over the students, and it was hard to tell House traits just by looking at the tables. The Gryffindors didn't look overwhelmingly brave, the Ravenclaws didn't look incredibly clever, the Slytherins didn't all look evil, though the Hufflepuffs did seem a nice lot…

Chloe Fleming was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and the table cheered loudly for her. Angie spotted Heather Dartley the prefect making room for Chloe. Would she be a Hufflepuff? They didn't have the most amazing reputation, in the books. They were easily the most boring House. But all the Hufflepuffs she had met so far had been very nice to her, and not at all boring.

It seemed that there were fewer students in her year than she had thought at first, because Slughorn was moving through the alphabet fairly quickly. Maybe it wouldn't be an awfully long time until it was her turn to be Sorted.

Suddenly the surname of Lupin was called out and Angie snapped to attention at the familiar name. Why would there be a… Of course. Harry's godson. She was glad she had recently re-read Deathly Hallows, otherwise she might not have remembered about Teddy Lupin. He didn't look particularly unusual, which Angie thought was a bit odd considering she remembered him as the blue-haired baby. At the moment, his hair was light brown and boring, and he looked as scared as she felt. The hat had been on his head for a while, hadn't it? What House would he be…

"RAVENCLAW!"

Well, that solved that. Angie watched him curiously as he walked over to the Ravenclaw table and sat down beside a happy-looking blond boy. He looked relieved now that he had a House, and again Angie wished that the Sorting Hat would just hurry up and get to her already.

Tara MacDonald was Sorted into Gryffindor. Angie wasn't particularly surprised, considering how fearless Tara had seemed on the train. Now the question was whether she would want to be in the same House as Tara. Before the train, she had thought that she would probably like to be in Gryffindor. After all, Harry was in Gryffindor and almost everyone important in the books was in Gryffindor, so that must make it the best House, right? Much better than Slytherin, anyway, which was clearly the worst House to be in if one was to take the books' word for it. Now that she was actually here, though, Angie wasn't sure how much the books had got right. If Hufflepuffs could be interesting and Gryffindors could be annoying and all that…

Who were the teachers? The thought suddenly occurred to Angie and she shot a glance back at the high table where the staff members were sat. It was hard to recognise anyone, especially taking into account that they would be older now than they had been in the books, but she guessed that the headmistress was Professor McGonagall and, remembering the clerk at Flourish and Blott's who had said that Padma Patil would be her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, she noticed an Indian woman who was probably the teacher in question. There was Slughorn, of course, and that cheerful man with the dark hair could possibly be Neville Longbottom as the Herbology teacher…

When had they got to the P names? P was only one letter before R, and Angie doubted that there would be many people with a surname starting with Q, so it was nearly her turn. Instead of feeling excited, though, she just felt a bit ill. A singing hat was about to pronounce judgment on her and tell her what her destiny would be for the next seven years. What if it put her in Slytherin? What if it decided she wasn't good enough for any of the Houses and that she ought to be sent home?

"Russell, Angela!"

Angie tried hard not to hyperventilate as she walked slowly up to the Sorting Hat. The stool was smooth and sturdy, but she wished it had a back so she wouldn't feel like she was about to fall over backward. The hat came to a rest just on top of her ears and Angie took a deep breath.

"_Don't worry, dear, I don't bite too hard_," the hat said, and Angie jumped. Even though she knew it had been coming, it was still disconcerting to have someone else's voice talking inside her head.

"I'm not worried you'll bite me, I'm just worried about what House I get put in."

"_And that you won't be good enough_." How had it known that? "_I can see inside your head, my dear, and you could do with a little more self-confidence. Stop worrying so much. Now, let's see, a hard worker, not particularly brave, no great ambitions…_"

"I think maybe Hufflepuff would be nice. Chloe and Heather both seemed friendly, and Tara in Gryffindor talked too much. I wouldn't want to be with her."

"_Yes, you could perhaps do well in Hufflepuff. But what really stands out are your brains. You're very curious, always wanting to know everything. A fan of reading as well, I see. That's always a good thing. Really, I believe the best place for you would be… _RAVENCLAW!"

Angie stepped down from the stool feeling relieved (because the waiting was over), a bit flattered (because the hat had told her that her brains stood out), and a bit disappointed (because she wouldn't be in the same House as Chloe from the train and Heather the prefect). Then she remembered that she was in the same House as Teddy Lupin, Harry Potter's godson.

"Your dad was one of my favourite characters," she told him, stopping halfway up the table as she looked for a seat. "I think he was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. And your mum was cool, too. I wish they hadn't died."

Teddy stared at her in confusion, pausing in his quiet conversation with the blond boy next to him. "Yeah, me too."

An older girl waved to her from the end of the table, gesturing to an open seat, and Angie walked over to it. She paid little attention to the rest of the Sorting as she waited for the feast to begin.

* * *

Angie sat up in bed in the quiet darkness, knees clutched to her chest and missing her parents. She hadn't ever been away from home for more than a couple days, and when she had she was usually at a relative's house. Even though she was at _Hogwarts_ now, the real thing, she was still miles away from home and going to be there for several months.

She almost wished she had been put in Hufflepuff with Chloe, because she wasn't sure how much she liked the other girls in her dormitory. Julie Turpin and Hester Kirke seemed to already be friends and were too busy talking to each other to get to know her, and Daisy Selwyn didn't seem to want to talk to anybody, so Angie felt very alone. She had talked a little to one of the first year boys, Sean Davies, at the feast, but he was in a different dormitory and right now she had no one that felt like a friend or even an acquaintance.

Still, though, it was going to be cool to live in a tower with such a breathtaking view of the grounds and to answer riddles from a talking eagle's head knocker to get into the common room, which was spectacular. It was exciting to be in the same House as someone she had read about and surely it would come in handy to be in the "clever" House. And of course it would be thrilling and unbelievable and amazing to learn magic, real magic. To levitate things and make potions and learn about magical plants. To be taught by people she had read books about and seen in movies, but never thought to be real.

She could probably get a clear enough picture from her Housemates and the library (oh, there was an enormous library, wasn't there!) to figure out what from the Harry Potter books was real and what wasn't. Maybe she could even share her books with other people. She had brought them, of course, and it would be really interesting to see what her Wizarding peers thought of the Muggle books about their world. It would be like a great experiment.

Yes, Angie thought that she could probably adjust to life here quite well in time.


End file.
